


why don't you call us brothers?

by poalimal



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drabble, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:40:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22780369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poalimal/pseuds/poalimal
Summary: They said that Odin kept Heimdall bound to Asgard.
Relationships: Heimdall & Thor (Marvel), Heimdall/Thor (Marvel)
Kudos: 22





	why don't you call us brothers?

They said that Odin kept Heimdall bound to Asgard. It could not be by choice or chance alone that a god of such wisdom would bow the knee to such cruelty as Odin once possessed. 

So they said. But when Ragnarok came, Heimdall remained. Heimdall protected his people the Aesir in secret and in battle, and he watched over them during their long voyage through space. And so King Thor relaxed - those long ago rumours from his childhood were merely that: rumours, and filthy lies besides. Heimdall was bound to the Aesir only through bonds of love and courage and choice. 

So he thought. But when the Aesir refugees reached Midgard at last, Heimdall gathered up his meagre belongings, bowed deeply to King Thor, and made as if to depart that very night. 

'The crown hangs heavy upon you, my King - and that is how I know that you shall wear it well,' said Heimdall. 'I can do no more for you.'

King Thor felt as if a wound was opening up fast in his chest. 'You can do very much indeed, Heimdall. Just stay by my side,' he said. 'Please. I need you.'

Heimdall nodded, as if he had expected this response. 'When your father bound me in service, he said much the same thing.' Thor could do nothing but stand there and swallow his shock like a sword - for he had not really known, no, but neither had he ever really _asked -_ for he had not wanted to know. 

In the shade and wind of foreign trees, Heimdall looked on the king and continued: 'I took Odin's need as my own for quite a long time. But I will do so no more. Do you understand?' He saw that Thor might not, that Thor might let his emotion overturn his sense of justice. And he turned toward the ocean with stiff shoulders, ready to dash himself upon the rocks before he bore such a betrayal. 'And if you deny me... you deny you do love me.'

Thor grasped Heimdall by the arm, drawing him close. 'Dear Heimdall,' he said, 'it has not always been so, but I will deny myself before I ever deny you.'

This near, Heimdall's eyes glowed like amber - in all of Thor's many journeys through the Nine Realms, this had always been the first and last sight of Asgard for him. The first and last sight of home. But it was a sight that had not been given freely. His words failed him for a moment, and a moment more; he shook Heimdall carefully by the arms, before letting him go. 

'Leave with my blessing,' said Thor, 'free of any binding or obligation to any who might hold the throne, now or in future. And take as many supplies with you as can be spared.'

'You can spare none, my King,' said Heimdall, a bit severe. Thor smiled at him helplessly, though he surely felt like weeping.

'--Take this, then,' he said. And he pulled off his signet ring and slipped it onto a finger of Heimdall's left hand. 'My father would not have wanted you to have it, and that is,' his voice began to shake, 'that is reason enough to make it yours. Perhaps it might even fetch you a pretty penny somewhere.'

Heimdall stared down at his hand with a pained sort of wonder. It could not be possible to sell something so precious. But he had not thought it would be possible for Asgard to be destroyed - for him to be freed of it, to be glad and grieved of it in equal measure. Tears began to slip silently down his cheeks. And Thor had to turn away, lest he be undone.

'Were love enough, my King,' said Heimdall, behind him, 'I would follow you to the end of my days.'

'Yes. I know.' Thor blinked hard and nodded, trying to hold onto his smile. He made himself look at Heimdall. Were he like his brother, he could come up with the words to keep Heimdall here. And were he like his sister, he would not care if it killed Heimdall to remain. But he was their weaker, their elder, their fool, and it was all he could do not to offer to go with him. 'I understand.'

Heimdall looked above to the Norns - and he saw his fate unwind and unweave, uncertain to his eyes. And a smile came to his face, such as Thor had never seen before. 'My Thor - of any, I wish that you could.'  
  
And Heimdall embraced Thor like a brother, and he kissed him like a lover - and then he left him forever in peace. 

So they say.

**Author's Note:**

> Principal Inspirations
> 
> I. X--, Malcolm. Q&A following lecture _The Black Struggle In the United States_ , given at Salle de la Mutualité. 23 November 1964. Paris, France:
> 
> Q: If it was our white ancestors who bought you and enslaved you, we are their children. We are the new generation. Why don’t you call us brothers?
> 
> A: A man has to act like a brother before you can call him a brother... If you are the son of a man who had a wealthy estate and you inherit your father’s estate, you have to pay off the debts that your father incurred before he died. The only reason that the present generation of white Americans are in the position of economic strength that they are is because their fathers worked our fathers for over 400 years with no pay. For over 400 years we worked for nothing... Your father isn’t here to pay his debts. My father isn’t here to collect. But I’m here to collect and you’re here to pay.
> 
> II. Forster, E.M. _A Passage to India_. 1924. p 361-362:
> 
> India a nation! What an apotheosis! ... Fielding mocked again. And Aziz in an awful rage danced this way and that, not knowing what to do, and cried: 'Down with the English anyhow. That's certain. Clear out, you fellows, double quick, I say. We may hate one another, but we hate you most. If I don't make you go, Ahmed will, Karim will, if it's fifty-five hundred years we shall get rid of you, yes, we shall drive every blasted Englishman into the sea, and then' - he rode against him furiously - 'and then,' he concluded, half kissing him, 'you and I shall be friends.'
> 
> 'Why can't we be friends now?' said the other, holding him affectionately. 'It's what I want. It's what you want.'
> 
> But the horses didn't want it - they swerved apart; the earth didn't want it, sending up rocks through which riders must pass single file; the temples, the tank, the jail, the palace, the birds, the carrion, the Guest House, that came into view as they issued from the gap and saw Mau beneath: they didn't want it, they said in their hundred voices, 'No, not yet,' and the sky said, 'No, not there.'


End file.
